


hold on to me (i'm a little unsteady)

by halfasgoodatanything



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Getting Back Together, M/M, Memory Loss, Pining Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Temporary Amnesia, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfasgoodatanything/pseuds/halfasgoodatanything
Summary: tony loses his memory. steve's afraid to get too close, because he can't take seeing tony without love in his eyes. steve also seems to be the only thing that helps him remember anything, so. heartbreak all around, until tony's memory comes back.for the lovely sabrecmc! i love your blog and you're the best!!!!!! :DDD





	hold on to me (i'm a little unsteady)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/gifts).



When Tony wakes, the first thing he hears is a heart monitor. The first thing he sees a face so beautiful he thinks he might’ve died.

A blonde man, blue eyes filled with concern, a bit of facial hair that didn’t look even a little bit intentional but still looked incredible. There’s something soft and loving in the man’s eyes, and this is when Tony realizes the mystery man is holding his hand.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says, and he shifts. The IV feels awful, but Cute Stranger might have an aneurysm if he takes it out.

“Hello, Tony,” there’s unbelievable mirth in the stranger’s voice, warm and honestly, _loving,_ and Tony doesn’t know how to say he’s not sure who he is. “You scared me. I don’t have it in me to yell at you right now, but don’t think you’re getting out of it, mister.” The man raises Tony’s fingers and kisses his knuckles, eyes closed like he’s treasuring it, and Tony wants more than anything to remember this man, this man who seems to love him so much he’d wait by his bed for days.

“I’m sorry,” and then something changes in Cute Stranger’s face, not shuttering but just, _focused,_ “I don’t actually know who you are.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’d remember a face like that, and it does feel like I’ve taken a bit of a hit, so-“

“This isn’t funny, Tony.” Cute Stranger’s hands slip away like it hurts for him to do it, and Tony doesn’t _know_ this man, but he already knows he should always be smiling.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- I really can’t remember what’s going on. How did I end up in a hospital?”

Cute Stranger cocks his head. Kind of like a spaniel.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Tony?”

“Playing with DUM-E, working on the upgrade for Jarvis and reading over this file Nick Fury gave me.”

“You- the Avengers file?”

“How did you know about that?”

Cute stranger furrowed his brows, and he looks very worried now.

“Tony. I need you to concentrate. What year do you think it is?”

He blinked.

“2012?”

Cute Stranger blanched, and ran a hand through his hair nervously.

“It’s 2014, Tony. Welcome to the future.”

Cute Stranger didn’t smile when he said it, though.

* * *

It is very much not 2012. And Cute Stranger is actually Captain Fucking America (he says he doesn’t like being called that, but still smiles when Tony does it, so whatever) and he’s an Avenger.

The memory loss was sustained in a battle, and a charming woman named Helen Cho tells him she’s certain it’s temporary, even if they’re not sure how long it’ll take to get his memories back.

Nick Fury explained this all to Tony with the help of Phil. And the thing is, Tony can understand most of this. He can get that he’s part of and funds a superhero team. He can understand that his life now includes being, something of a _family_ with a group of spies, a monster, and a supersoldier. He can get all of that. Honestly.

The one thing he’s _certain_ they’re lying to him about, is that he somehow got Captain America to fall in love with him.

It’s obviously true, though. The good Captain’s eyes follow him when he moves, and every time their fingers brush it’s an event. The way he smiles at Tony- no one’s ever looked at him that way before. Pure unadulterated love, knowing and sweet like greek ambrosia, and it’s heady and addictive.

Steve Rogers looks at him like salvation and home, and Tony Stark doesn’t know how to be that, and it’s selfish, but part of him is addicted to it.

* * *

The tower he used to keep for himself is shared. Of course, Tony knew this, but it’s another thing to see it-

He hasn’t seen Steve since he woke up, and that was a week ago. He hasn’t known him long enough to _miss_ him (well, he has, but you know) but he does miss him.

“The doctor says reworking old patterns will help speed up the process,” Bruce says, making him a coffee, “And it shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll all help.”

“Thanks, doc,” Tony replies and winces when he takes a sip. Bruce doesn’t look offended, but laughs.

“I’m pretty sure Steve’s the only one who can make you coffee you’ll like.”

Bruce chuckles again, sipping his tea serenely, and Tony feels the familiarity of it, like he has known him for years. But there’s something _missing,_ an ache since Steve hadn’t visited.

“Where is Steve?”

Bruce pauses, then speaks after a moment.

“He’s downstairs, destroying some punching bags. He always does that when you’re away and he’s in a bad place.”

“I’m not away,” he replies, pouting.

“You kind of are, Tones.”

* * *

When it looks like Steve’s going to be in the gym for the foreseeable future, Tony asks JARVIS to take him to his room. It’s on a different floor than he remembers, and when he walks in, the reason is obvious: It’s not just his room anymore.

This is a room he shares with his partner.

There is a photo on the nightstand of the two of them. It’s framed, but clearly taken on a phone. He’s kissing Steve’s cheek and Steve is _grinning,_ so wide and full of joy and love, and Tony swells with pride.

He doesn’t know a lot about the last 2 years, but he knows he loves Steve. Maybe it got wired in somehow, like loving this man was wired into his DNA when he first started doing it, or when he started reading the comics at 12. All Tony knows is that seeing Steve happy, _this_ happy, because of him- well, it’s amazing. Incredible.

“I can take those down if you want,” Tony hears a voice behind him, and he _jumps._

“Hey, soldier, not all of us have supersenses,”

Steve smirks like he has something he wants to say, and it dies so quickly it was barely there.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Steve says, “I didn’t know you’d be up here.”

“J didn’t warn you?”

“It’s not exactly unusual for you to be in my bed, Tony.” Steve winces, like he’s not allowed to mention that a few weeks prior he and Tony were sleeping together every night. “Sorry.”

“You should be, Captain, I honestly didn’t know what being gay was until now and I’m frankly offended you’d bring it up now.”

Steve laughs, for real this time, and walks in the room, standing closer to Tony.

“I’m going to sleep in my old bedroom tonight,” he says, softy.

“Why?”

“I don’t think you need me that close right now-“

“The doctor says that old patterns are what I need, I’m assuming we weren’t on the rocks-“

“No, we were certainly not-“

“So stay, c’mon, I want to remember. I do, Steve.”

Steve goes quiet at that.

“I know this is hard for you, Tony. I know that you don’t remember who you’re supposed to trust most, that everything is knew and scary for you right now. But I-“ Steve took a breath, and did what Tony calls the _Captain_ look, when he goes steely and focused on what he has to say, “I haven’t had you look at me like a stranger in years. I think it’s best we keep a bit of distance until you remember at least a little.”

This is for Steve, Tony realizes. He can’t stand to be around the love of his life and not see that in him.

 _Oh,_ Tony thinks, _I’ll love you. I’ll take you home and keep you safe._

“Okay,” Tony says back, because what can he say? “Please don’t be a stranger,”

“Of my many skills, resisting you doesn’t seem to be among them, Tony.”

Surprisingly, Steve reached out and grabbed his hand. It’s still that electric spark he gets when Steve touches him, and unexpected, now.

“Careful, I’ll get a big head.”

“It can get bigger?”

“I’m wounded, my love,” Tony jokes, and the jovial tone falls away.

“I’ll see you soon, Tony.”

It’ll be okay. Steve promised he wouldn’t be a stranger.

* * *

He doesn’t Steve around much for the next few days. For someone who claims to have a weak spot for him, he’s fairly good at avoiding him. When he does see him, Steve’s gaze lingers. They eat breakfast together, Clint talking to him about the work he’s doing and Nat fixing his bed hair (apparently Steve used to be a big part of why he doesn’t look messy around the house anymore). Steve _looks._

Steve looks at Tony like he’s just not able to stop, and Tony’s seen his hands itch to touch, reach out and stop himself. Tony thinks that might be why they’ve only had breakfast together.

That, and Steve’s the only one who can make his coffee right.

“You like it?” Steve asks, and this morning, everyone else is busy. It’s embarrassing how much Tony was scared he wouldn’t see Steve.

“Very much, thank you.” It’s kind of weak. “The company is effervescent, handsome.”

Steve scoffs, amused, and his hand does that reaching out thing where he stops short before he can hold his hand.

“You ordered this blend a month ago as a gift for me. It’s too light, and you don’t like the cinnamon in it, do you?”

Steve smiles, like he’s talking about someone he loves that Tony doesn’t know.

“I don’t mind the cinnamon.”

“Yes, you do. You once threw out a hot chocolate during Christmas because I forgot-“

“Well that was because you stuck a whole _stick_ in there, did you think I was a _heathen?_ ”

Steve laughs, and god that’s beautiful, but then-

“You remembered,” Steve says, and Tony thought he might be _excited,_ but that’s not the tone. His voice is soft and reverent, as if Tony’s given him hope of the best thing in the world, “You knew-“

“The holiday party,” Tony says back, meeting Steve’s wide blue eyes, “We weren’t together yet. It was your first Christmas after waking up from the ice. I was worried you wouldn’t feel at home. That’s why I stayed here instead of Malibu.”

It’s _liberating_ to remember, to feel like he _knows_ something, something so important to him and the people he loves.

“You never told me that,” Steve says, so quiet it’s a whisper. He has such an intense gaze, “It helped.”

“You being here is obviously helping.” Tony takes a risk and grabs Steve’s hand, and Steve inhales sharply but doesn’t pull away, only tightens his hold, “You said you’d talk to me more once I remembered something.”

Tony _misses_ him. It makes no sense, to miss Steve when he cognitively doesn’t know him, but a part of him _does._ If he was the kind of person who said things like that, he’d say that his heart misses him. The heart remembers what the mind cannot.

“Please, Steve.”

“If you want,” Steve says, and yes, _yes_ Tony wants, he wants every time he sees Steve, “I can hang out with you when you’re in the workshop.”

“Did you say hang out? You’re a hundred, that’s not allowed, how is that allowed-“

“Do you want me there or not, Tony?” Steve says, but he’s smiling. Good. Steve should always be smiling.

“Of course I do, I’ve established I think you’re _gorgeous,_ and I like pretty things where I work-“

“Are you saying you only want me there for my looks? Mr. Stark, that’s _awful-_ “

“It’s an artists’ appreciation-“

“I’m the artist in this relationship!”

Tony laughed, genuinely laughed and so is Steve, and Steve’s _closer_ now, joy written on his face. It’s the first time Steve has mentioned the fact they’re together (kind of)without wincing, and Steve’s holding his hand.

He doesn’t know Steve, not really, but this _feels_ right, feels like coming home and _peace._ Tony’s known such little peace, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever truly been in love. He knows now, though, that he loves Steve.

It’s fucking terrifying.

The only thing he can do to feel better is to cling to Steve.

“I know this is hard for you, Steve,” Tony says, and look at him, being all grown up and talking about _feelings,_ “But I really need you here, Cap.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, “But you have to call me Steve.”

“You don’t like Cap?”

“Not from you, Tony.”

Steve drinks his coffee and smiles, squeezesTony’s hand one more time before he says he needs to work out.

Tony asks JARVIS if he’s punching bags right now, and he’s pleased when JARVIS says no.

* * *

It’s slow going, and Steve being around means his memory increases exponentially. The bots love him, and Steve is so good with them, talks to them like they’re real, and Tony- he can see how easy it would have been to fall in love with Steve.

Steve’s kind, and sweet, and _good._ And now that the has permission to, Steve’s always bringing food down or quietly sketching something in the corner of the room. He’ll chat about ideas, let thoughts bounce around the room, and- he’s incredible.

Steve’s got a killer smile, and he’s _funny, all_ dry wit and bad jokes and loving eyes. He makes ham sandwiches and makes Tony eat them, and he’s _bright-_

It’s a week later, when he remembers something else, big.

“Steve,” Tony says, and Steve turns and smiles, puts his pad down and listens, “I remembered something.”

He perks up instantly, and Tony- he loves seeing Steve happy. It’s incredible.

“What was it?”

“A snippet, I’m not sure- we were dancing, at some party. You were nervous,You told me- you told me you loved me.”

“A gala,” Steve says. His eyes are so blue. So focused. Tony wants Steve to always be looking at him.

“A gala?”

“You threw it in honor of your mother, of her charity. And I saw you give that speech, play the piano and I-“

“It was the first time you ever did. Say that.”

“We’d been together, and I thought you knew- knowing you though, you’ll always doubt- and I just- I was holding you and I thought, I couldn’t stand the idea of not doing it for the rest of my life.”

Steve sucked in a breath, harsh and shallow.

“I need- Tony, you’re the smartest person I think _exists,_ I need you to remember. I need you to come back- I don’t know how to do this without you, you’re the one who taught me-“

And Steve’s crying, not a lot but it’s _there._ Quick little sobs, fists clenched like he’s not allowed to reach out.

“Steve, honey, look at me,” Tony says, moving closer to Steve and touching his face, because _fuck it,_ Steve needs to be touched, needs _Tony,_ “Look at me.”

Steve does, relents to it and leans into Tony’s touch. How many times has Steve needed Tony in the last few weeks and just clenched his fists and beard through it.

“I’m going to remember. The pieces are coming back quicker and faster, and even if I don’t-“

“Don’t you dare say that-“

“Even then, I’m sure we’ll be fine. You still love me, I’m guessing.”

“You don’t know me, Tony.” Steve sounds like he’s been stepped on.

“I do, though. And if I don’t now, I will.”

Steve doesn’t look like he believes him, but he still leans into his touch.

“Can I hug you, Steve?”

Steve looks up at him, wet lashes and red eyes, and shudders out the most heartbreaking sound escapes his throat.

“Yeah, if you want.” It sounded a lot like a _please._

Tony holds him, and it’s awkward for a second, but then Steve just- _melts_ into Tony’s grasp, and Tony thinks he might feel someone sniffle into his neck.

He won’t tell.

He wants to tell Steve he’s allowed to touch, that he’s probably the only one who’s ever touched Tony like he’s holy and precious, that he’s always welcome.

He doesn’t think he’ll believe him, though. So when Steve leaves to go to his own bedroom for the night, Tony misses him, but doesn’t ask him to stay. Even if they both want him to.

* * *

Tony doesn’t expect to see Steve until the morning, but when he comes down for a snack at 2am, he sees Steve Rogers sitting in the kitchen, alone with a glass of milk and god, obviously _such a mess._

He’d been crying, obviously, but there’s something worse than that on his face, pain, raw and deep, tousled hair and crossed arms like he’s holding himself together.

He notices Tony before he can say hello, and wipes his face, runs a hand through his hair like that’ll help him not look like he’s in incredible pain.

“Hey, ba- Tony,” he says, and winces, and Tony wants to gather him up, hold him until he can fix him. He _did_ this. It’s awful, terrible that he got someone to love him so much that losing him could break them like this.

“Steve,” he says, stepping into his space. “What happened?”

Tony places his hands on Steve’s face, and Steve leans into him like he’s drowning, and that’s a testament to how awful he’s feeling. He wouldn’t brush their hands a week ago.

“I had a bad dream,” Steve says, “It’s nothing to worry over.”

“It’s you, Steve. I always worry over you.”

Steve shudders out a breath, but lifts a hand to hold Tony’s.

“What do I normally do to help?”

Steve pauses, an answer Tony doesn’t know lingering in the air, and Steve swallows as though it’s all his pride.

“You let me hold you,” Steve says, like it’s a secret. Like he’s ashamed for needing it. “Through the night, and you tell me you- you say that-“

“I tell you that I love you,” Tony finishes.

“Don’t.”

“Why don’t I hold you?”

“We don’t- Not when the dreams are about you.”

It’s a painful picture, Steve having a nightmare about Tony (which is inevitably violent and awful and _losing him_ ) and reaching out to hold him, and Tony wasn’t there.

Silence stays for a beat, and then Tony grabs Steve’s wrist, and drags him.

“Tony-"

“You’re sleeping with me tonight. Please.”

And Steve had said he wasn’t able to resist him, and it holds true when Steve follows.

Steve settles into the bed stiff and uncertain. Tony reaches his arms out, though, and Steve- well, he does what he said he would. He holds him.

Slowly, but like a rose blooming, it happens slowly- Steve puts him in, Tony’s face resting on his chest, broad and warm, arms around his middle, and Tony can _feel_ it. The relief of it all, how much safer Steve feels.

Tony’s in love with him.

It really doesn’t matter when it happened or how, but as of now, memories or not, in this bed in 2014 with Steve Rogers, Tony Stark is in love with him.

* * *

 

It’s almost like that first morning in the hospital, when Tony was up. Steve’s holding him, tight to his chest and so close. It’s the first time Tony’s seen him at peace since he lost his memory.

The morning sun sprays golden light over the two of them, and damn it all if Steve doesn’t look like something holy, something divine in the glow of it all.

“Steve?”

Steve flutters his eyes open, and listens.

“I love you.”

Steve blinks, just for a moment, and then, he just- opens up, beautifully. Relief is all over his face, that and love, something beautiful and bright and blinding.

When Steve kisses him, it’s unbelievably tender, hands all over him and and smiling when he does, tears all over his face.

Steve’s a good kisser, and this is desperate a man who thought he’d lost his world, pressing and warm and _everything._

“I knew you’d come back,” Steve says teary against Tony’s mouth, still smiling, still grabbing every bit of him he can reach, “I knew it, I _knew_ ,”

And Tony was going to say that he didn’t remember, that he just loved him _again,_ but he didn’t the chance.

Because in that moment, Steve kissing Tony through tears and a grin, by sunrise in _their bed,_ it all came back to him.

Their first meeting, the yelling and the fighting, to the moving in to the tower. The nights in the workshop, the countless sketches of _him_ Steve drew, their first kiss, the first _I love you,_ the moments that stitched a life.

Tony’s got his life in his hands right now.

“Steve, Steve, I remember.”

“I know,” he laughed, finally pulling away.

“No, you don’t,” Tony laughs, and oh, apparently he can cry too, “I just said I loved you because I did. Do. God, I love you.”

Steve kissed him again, because apparently he can’t help it and Tony isn’t going to stop him.

“I remembered when you kissed me.”

Steve laughs, mostly a sob.

“You loved me, before you knew?”

“Who wouldn’t love you?”

Steve drags him down again, kisses him silent and Tony thinks he might be just trying to ground himself convince himself that Tony is here that he loves him, that he’s _back._ Tony goes soft and pliant in Steve’s arms, because of the many things ever was, being Steve’s was always the best of them.

What he was proudest of.

* * *

When they tell the team over breakfast, Steve makes him coffee, and his hands itch to hold Tony. Tony doesn’t wait long enough to see if he’ll do it, just pulls Steve into his grasp.

The funny thing is, if you had erased the two years before 2012, he would’ve been fine. Nothing would have been all that insane.

But here, and now, all Tony can think is that if there’s anything to thank god for, it’s the here and now.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @irndad! feel free to shoot me a message :D


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